


Home Comforts

by Superbeans



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Hurt and comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:39:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superbeans/pseuds/Superbeans
Summary: After a ‘disagreement’ with her parents, Pacifica Northwest found herself out on the street with little more than the clothes on her back and what was left of her pride.Faced with a cold night outside, she sought the help of the only friend she knew.





	Home Comforts

The sun was already setting by the time they heard her knock. The clouds an angry grey soup in the skies above, it wasn’t just the rapidly approaching dusk that was cold and blue.

Limbs tucked in close, she huddled as close as she could to the door and its warmth. A quivering hand slowly extended, and rapped one, two three times on the faded wooden frame.

It had been six hours since the ‘difficulty’, as her parents had called it. Six hours of harsh, cold reality. But strangely enough, no one seemed to come running whenever Pacifica Northwest knocked at their door. What use even was this tiny town, if its citizens didn’t bow at her feet, she wondered with a furtive glance at said feet. The least they could have done was surrender their warmth to her, or-

Pacifica shook her head furiously. That was parent thinking. If she was going to get anywhere in this world, she needed to think for herself. That much she knew.

But it was just so hard! How long did it take to answer a door?!

Pacifica raised two manicured fists. The paint was starting to chip. Six whole hours...

”Open up already!” She hammered at the door. “It’s cold out here, dammit!”

Her knuckles grazed the splintery wood once more, as the metal scraping of locks could finally be heard from within. One, two, at least four locks were unbolted before the door creaked open. 

“Whaddya want?” A haggard old voice crowed out of the crack in the door. Pacifica scoffed. Ugh. It was the creepy old grampa.

”Oh, it’s you,” The old man deadpanned at her. “Maabellll, there’s somethin’ at the door for ya!”

The door was slammed shut again in Pacifica’s face as yet another sliding bolt was unlatched. Something tumbled down wooden stairs loudly and stomped towards her location, before the door was literally thrown open.

”Pacifica!” A cloud of brown hair, fluffy sweater and bracers launched itself at her. “It’s so good to-“

”Getoff, getoff, get OFF!” Pacifica recoiled like a cat, and ejected the invader from her person. “Personal space bubble, please!”

”Eheh, sorry,” Mabel Pines got back up and dusted herself off. Her smile was the sun in its absence, lifting Pacifica’s cloudy spirits despite the... difficulty. “S-so what’s brought you here? Did you need somethin’?”

Mabel’s smile slowly waned and died, like the darkening skies above. Pacifica had given her a curt stare and opened her mouth like she was going to respond, but instead her cheeks just dimpled, and the tween stared back at her feet.

”You know what? It doesn’t matter!” Mabel’s smile was on the rise again. “C’mon inside, Pacifica! You look like you’re-“

”Who do you think I am, some charity case?!” Pacifica balled her fists up in protest. “I’m not that desperate that I’d be begging y-“

But then her sentence died where it stood. Tears bubbles in her eyes, which she quickly extinguished. “N-never mind. Forget I said anything.”

One foot swivelled to walk away, but a gloved hand met her shoulder.

”Don’cha wanna stay for dinner?”

There was an audible growl of disagreement from within the confines of this hovel they lived in, but despite it all Pacifica glanced back at Mabel. That smile. That damned smile. So earnest, so... pure dammit!

“You... have food?” She sniffed.

”Well yeah? We’re humans, aren’t we?”

”That’s debatable...” Pacifica managed a weak scoff, as the old guy stomped past the doorway.

”She comin’ in or not?!”

”Is that really okay, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel’s eyes glittered at him.

”Long as that door closes, I don’t care!” Grunkle Stan threw the fridge door open and grabbed a can of Pitt Cola.

”Yay~!” Mabel shrieked in delight, and dragged Pacifica by the arm over the threshold. 

“What... is this place?” Pacifica wrinkled her nose at it. Immediately upon entering did the floor creak under her feet. Polished marble never did that. The welcoming heat of a fireplace masked the acrid stench of old man and... wild animal of some sort?

A belch from the kitchen had Pacifica realising that this Grunkle Stan could very well be both.

The soft white flicker of their tiny television pulsed from the adjacent room, with the incongruent yodelling of some hick show coming from it. Despite obviously being peasant trash, Pacifica found it oddly alluring. Did poor people get to watch things other than political rallies and shopping channels?

”W-Well if you’re surrendering your food to me, I suppose I can’t refuse,” her haughty laugh escaped. “I’ll start with some crudités, and then I’ll have a-“

”You’ll have a sloppy joe and fries.” Grunkle Stan pushed a chipped plate of greasy... something, into her hands. “Dipppperrrrr! Get down here and eat already!”

The wooden floors groaned as an equally grumpy teenager stomped down them. Pacifica was busy examining the mess on her plate when the younger twin rounded the stairs, and locked eyes with her.

”Umm... Grunkle Stan?” Dipper frowned.

”I know, I know...” the old man forestalled with a hand wave. “She’s stayin’ the night, so just... get used to it.”

”Well, alright...” Dipper shrugged. With a book tucked under one arm, he disappeared into the adjacent room to collect his plate. Meanwhile Mabel was already gorging on her... sloppy... joe?

All manner of vaguely meat like material was spilling out of the back as she sunk her teeth into it. Was this considered high cuisine among the poor, Pacifica wondered.

Meanwhile the Grunkle, whatever that was, had found a box of... well it said they were pop tarts. But in the same way he bottle he was drinking from had a label sticky-taped on that said ‘adult juice’, Pacifica was not convinced.

”...not hungry?” It spoke at her, after noticing her refrain to touch the... food. “It’s dinner ain’t it?”

”Well err...” she pursed her lips at the offering. “T-the jury’s still out on that. How on earth do you eat it?”

”Like a buwger!” Mabel enthused, her mouth bulging and face messy with various... ingredients.

”Don’t tell me you’ve never had a burger before?” Dipper’s face dropped.

The sigh bubbled up within her like the shaken up can of Pitt Cola that Dipper had just cracked open. This world... it was so different to the apparent utopia of butlers and foie gras that she was used to.

”S-so you don’t need a knife or fork to eat this... thing?” She grimaced at it.

“Course not! You use your hands!” Mabel beamed at her. “It’s messy, but it’s good food! Kinda like a, uhh... what’s a fancy kinda sandwich?”

Dipper and Grunkle Stan exchanged a look between them. Eventually Stan gulped down a mouthful of something, and,

”...le sandwich?”

One kid frowned at him, one gave him a sour look, and one simply glittered.

"Grunkle Stan! I didn't know you could speak French!"

"That was French?! Stan yelped in response.

"...hardly," Pacifica snorted. Her two quivering hands wrapped around the so-called sandwich, and she raised the creation to her mouth. Yet more of the brownish mess slopped out of it as she gingerly took a bite. Suddenly, an explosion of meaty spices kidnapped her palette. Poor people ate food this tasty?

Pacifica's eyes bulged, and soon the tween was wolfing the meal down, not even stopping to savour.

"Atta girl..." Stan deadpanned, reclining in his seat to pay proper attention to the tv. The cacophony of strange noises was nothing like the political ramblings Pacifica was used to. And yet all three of them seemed entranced about this... show, about a duck wearing a hat?

It just didn't make any sense. How was this in any way supposed to-

"Oh look look, he just beat up the bad guy!" Mabel spat food everywhere as she flailed at the TV set. "Put it on my bill..." she continued in a deep, squawky voice, before dissolving into a giggly mess. Then both Dipper and the Grunkle roared with laughter. Poor people sure did have a weird sense of humour. There was no mockery or anything.

"A-hah...hahah..." Pacifica's laughter was painful on her sides. If she was going to assimilate herself with these yokels, then she would have to behave as they did.

"See? Bein' a normal person ain't so bad, huh?" Stan smirked. His eyes then glasses over again as he and the rest of them were under the command of the tv. The show was simplistic, and that was being generous. Something about brutish men in ski masks getting outwitted by this... duck?  There was an abundance of unnecessary violence to boot, and yet with every pratfall, yelp of pain or unconscious brute, the trio only laughed harder. It was almost... unsettling.

"Pff..." Dipper held back a snort. "L-looks like he caught them in his web...!"

Again, the three fell about laughing. The walls rattled with Grunkle Stan's holler, as the screen darkened, and the dumb show they were watching began to roll credits. 

"Ahh, you're the best, Ducktective." Mabel wiped away a tear from her eye.

"'I'll take you under my wing, kid'," Grunkle Stan mimicked the duck again, prompting snorts from two of the three kids. "A-anyway, anyway. Get to bed, kids. Your Grunkle's up early tom-"

But the old man hadn't even finished his sentence before falling asleep on the chair, his bottle of 'adult juice' still clenched tightly in his hand.

"...alrighty then, bedtime it is." Mabel smiled. "Follow me Pacifica, I'll show you the way!"

"W-who's going to take this away?" Pacifica gestured to the plate on her lap. Grunkle Stan continued snoring loudly, and the twins just shared an awkward look. They obviously didn't have a butler, so who was going to-

"Here..." Dipper held his hand out. Pacifica looked from it, to her plate, to his hand again, and then her plate again. The cogs were just starting to turn...

"O-ohh..." she finally realised, and pushed her plate into his hand. With the tiniest sigh, Dipper walked three plates into the kitchen. He almost didn't hear the 'thanks...'

A secret smile. It was dark, so no one saw.

"Okeydokey!" It was Mabel who held out a hand this time, helping her up. "Watch your step okay?"

"Why would I have to watch my-" Pacifica began, before her expensive shoe squelched into... something nasty. "...step."

She lifted her foot and spied a weird, translucent greenish substance covering it. 

"Don't ask..." Dipper sighed, and followed the pair of them up the stairs.

"Wh-why're you following me?" Pacifica groaned at him.

"Because I also sleep upstairs." Dipper gave a thin-lipped smile. "Though on that note..." his voice rose a notch as they mounted the stairs. "What're we doing about sleeping arrangements, Mabel?"

Mabel shuffled to a stop. "Hmm... I didn't think that far...?"

Dipper's expression withered before them both. "Fine, you can have my bed pacifi-"

"Eww! I'm not sleeping in a boy's bed!" Pacifica protested instantly. "Gross!"

"...fine then," Dipper's eyes were lidded. "Mabel, you can sleep in my bed. I'll just... find somewhere else."

"That's more like it," Pacifica huffed.

"Thanks, Dipperrrr!" Mabel's voice rang after her brother's disappearing silhouette. Without further ado she opened the door to her bedroom, and was immediately jumped upon by something pink.

"Whah?!" Her surprise quickly turned into another fit of giggles as a baby pig of all things nuzzled her ecstatically. "I-I missed you too Waddles...!"

Well that explained the smell. Pacifica snorted. You were supposed to eat animals, not make friends with them...

"Okay, okay Waddles, settle down!" Mabel was still giggling as she balled up her pig and hoisted it into her arms. "This is Pacifica! She's staying here tonight!"

Waddles was a dumb name for a pig. But with its innocent little beetle black eyes staring back at her, the thing simply snorted at her a couple of times. Why weren't all of the dumb animals in this town so accepting?

"Aww, he likes you!" Mabel grinned, and walked with the pig into her room. "Well, there's no butlers or lobsters or any of that stuff in here," she instinctively wandered towards the bed on the right, but then remembered. "But long as you're here, welcome home!"

"...home?" A smile tugged at her lips. Only for a second though.

"Ayup!" Waddles jumped off onto Dipper's bed and gave Mabel a quizzical look. "Whatever happened with your parents, it can wait til the morning. For now..." she left her feet as she rootled around in a chest of drawers, "need some jammies?"

Pacifica laughed awkwardly at the purple number she was offered. Hamsters were really not her thing. But, as she was learning a lot today, beggars couldn't be choosers.

-.-.-

With a blush and a mumble, Pacifica tucked herself under the covers of Mabel's bed, where the thick, warm sheets were so much comfier than the embroidered satin on her own bed. What was the secret? Thee fabrics didn't look expensive? Why, if she didn't know any better she would've sworn they were.

"...budget?" Oops, that was out loud.

"Y-yeah, little bit." A bashful Mabel admitted opposite her. "B-but that's the thing, y'see? When the piggybank's empty," she grunted as Waddled plopped on top of her. "You fill it with love!"

"Love...?" Pacifica frowned. Was that really the difference? Love made mediocre food and low quality bedding this much nicer?

"Well, umm..." she chewed her lip. "M-Mabel?"

"Yeah, roomie?" Mabel's braces glinted in the dying light. Pacifica took in a deep breath,

"...thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people. After binge watching Gravity Falls in its entirety, I knew I had to write a couple fics on it. So this is the first of at least two I’ll be posting on here. Figured I’d start with some happy fluff. Everyone likes fluff right?


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